Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Saudi Arabia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Bang On A Can to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Rotary Connection,
The Detroit Cobras,
Malaria!,
The Fuzztones,
La Düsseldorf,
Liliput,
Matthew Bourne,
Boogie Down Productions,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sarah Menescal,
Audionom,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Laurel Aitken,
Jerry's Kids,
Althea and Donna,
Cybotron,
Dark Day,
The Human League,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
These Immortal Souls,
The Beau Brummels,
Pussy Galore,
Robert Görl,
DJ Style,
Bluetip,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Cameo,
Country Teasers,
Reuben Wilson,
Infiniti,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Young Rascals,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Misunderstood,
The Sonics,
Marshall Jefferson,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Techniques,
The Offenders,
Blancmange,
Boredoms,
Rites of Spring,
Blake Baxter,
Public Image Ltd.,
Babytalk,
Pharoah Sanders,
Kayak,
Crooked Eye,
Metal Thangz,
Gregory Isaacs,
Saccharine Trust,
Magazine,
The Gories,
Jacques Brel,
The Saints,
Hardrive,
Crime,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.